Strengthen me by sympathizing with my strength not my weakness. ~ Amos Bronson Alcott
...
"Identify yourselves," Queen Liora commanded, brandishing her sword as three assassins stealthily materialized. The king, frail and lying in bed, bore witness to the peril unfolding before him. The lethal trio advanced, prompting Queen Liora to launch a fierce assault.
The symphony of clashing steel reverberated through the chamber, the would-be assassins aiming their strikes at the weakened king rather than the queen. Summoning the last of his strength, the king fought alongside his courageous wife. In a swift act of valor, Queen Liora vanquished one of the assassins, leaving two adversaries to contend with. Undeterred, they engaged in a relentless struggle.
Exploiting the king's vulnerability, one assassin seized the moment and struck, catching them off guard. Swift retaliation ensued as Queen Liora severed the assassin's head, swiftly ending his malevolent intent. The final assailant, cunning and elusive, made a hasty escape, leaving the king to succumb to his wounds.
"Adrian... my love... maids!!!" the queen shouted as the king, bleeding, struggled to cover the wound with clothes. The maids hurriedly opened the door and rushed in with the body of the king, the guards on the floor.
"Give me water, clean clothes, and herbs," the queen ordered urgently.
"No, my queen..." the king said weakly, blood seeping through.
"It's time; the kingdom is in your hands now. Lord Cedric will be here for you, and my shadow guard will keep you safe for our baby," the king said, his voice fading.
"No!!!!" she cried out in agony.